


I Am A Rock

by notjustmom



Series: Season 4 Song Fics [20]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John POV, M/M, bit of domestic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:51:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: "A winter's dayIn a deep and darkDecemberI am aloneGazing from my window to the streets belowOn a freshly fallen silent shroud of snowI am a rockI am an islandI've built wallsA fortress deep and mightyThat none may penetrateI have no need of friendship, friendship causes painIt's laughter and it's loving I disdain..."-"I Am A Rock," Paul Simon





	

John snorted awake, the tickle of Sherlock's curls under his chin had almost become a sensation that no longer took him by surprise, it had been weeks since they first ended up falling asleep together on the couch. He tried to hold in a burble of pure joy that was rumbling in his chest, but he failed, and the man in his arms shifted slightly, just enough so John could examine his face closely, unobserved for once.

He wondered at the deep laugh lines etched at the corners of Sherlock's eyes, they almost disappeared when he was fully asleep, but not quite. He wanted to know how many he was responsible for, as opposed to the scars that lived side by side with them. The scars ran nearly as deep, he mused silently, and he wished he could take them back, erase them with a kiss or a soft word, but he knew they were not so easily undone. 

John sighed and held Sherlock tighter, trying to focus on the fragile, brilliant thing they had become, instead of dwelling on their recent and distant histories. It had been his fault, though Sherlock would argue with him, if awake, with a single look, as if admonishing him gently,"don't be an idiot, John," and John would nod and smile, and get on with things. 

But it was true. 

He had let Sherlock take the fall too often; he had believed Sherlock's song and dance about sentiment for far too long. He rolled his eyes and sighed; Sherlock was the most sentimental person he had ever known. It was his own fear of letting his guard down, afraid of actually making a choice to allow himself to love and be loved that had let things get so fucked up. He had honestly thought he was too flawed, too angry for anyone to take on. He had believed himself better off alone after Mary, after everything that had happened.

He felt Sherlock's soft lips press over his heart and his sob changed into a grateful moan; his fingers moved to tangle gently in Sherlock's thick hair and John smiled as Sherlock shivered in his arms and whispered his name, before going back to sleep.

John shook his head and bit his lip, amazed as ever that he was allowed to be the one, the only one who truly saw Sherlock without his armour, and the heart he wore so openly, so fiercely on his sleeve. And he swore a silent vow to never again wrong that heart, just as he heard Rosie babbling to herself over the monitor.

"I'll get her." Sherlock mumbled, and was up and out of the room before John could say a word. He heard Sherlock talk to his daughter as he changed her nappy, asking her how she slept, telling her about the latest ridiculous client he had tossed out of their flat earlier that day, and muttering in a hush that John almost missed hearing, "people are just lonely sometimes, need a bit of attention. We are so lucky, Rosie, that we have your papa to love us, you know that, right?" John clamped his eyes shut to stop the tears that he could feel trying to escape, when he heard Rosie babble happily back at Sherlock as if agreeing wholeheartedly.

Sherlock laughed as he picked up the toddler, and returned to the lounge. John looked up at him, and Sherlock gave him the look that once again forgave him for being an idiot for so long, before he moved into the kitchen where he put Rosie in her high chair and asked her, "Now then, Rosie, peas or sweet potatoes?"


End file.
